


A New World Will Dawn

by Yudonomi



Series: AusHun Week 2020 [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AusHunWeek2020, F/M, Historical Hetalia, Post-World War I, World War I, freshly divorced and partitioned, gets greek-ish at the end, this isnt fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:40:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24567844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yudonomi/pseuds/Yudonomi
Summary: In the last week of the Great War, Roderich Edelstein receives a notice from Budapest. Nearly two years later, he receives a visitor.Written for AusHun Week 2020 Day 1: Historical
Relationships: Austria/Hungary (Hetalia)
Series: AusHun Week 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775827
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	A New World Will Dawn

**1 Nov. 1918, Austrian Alps**

Roderich returned to the back lines a weary man. He knew that they were losing the Italian offensive and that utter defeat was in a matter of days; he wouldn't be surprised if Feliciano already had a painting for it. He had barely slid down the muddy trench walls to rest when a soldier walked up to him, giving a salute. Roderich stood and returned the gesture, albeit more sloppily.

"Sir, the Feldmarschall is calling for you. Says it's urgent." 

Roderich waved his hand in a vague gesture, hoping to get his message across, and fortunately, the boy stepped ahead and led the way. Roderich followed, trying to walk as naturally as possible with a sprained ankle and heart that felt like it was beating only half as much blood as it was supposed to. 

He already knew what was coming.

When they reached the makeshift office further behind the lines, the soldier gave one last salute. Roderich curtly nodded as the young man left. He vanished into the maze of the trenches, just another unremarkable face who would die for Austria. Roderich took in a deep breath. The poor mother would likely get the telegram by the end of the week. He pushed aside the cloth covering the entrance and stepped inside the office, where a man sat at a table, sheets of paper spread out before him. Maps, telegrams, and letters alike were scattered on the desk. 

Roderich cleared his throat "Feldmarschall."

"Mein Land." The man barely looked up, but beckoned for him to come closer. Roderich stood across his desk, where the Feldmarschall was staring at the map, already fraying from the multitude of plans drawn and crossed out on it. He lowered his pen and dug out a sealed envelope and held it out to Roderich.

"I think being what you are, you already know what it says, but a notice for you came from Budapest." 

Roderich took it and turned it over. _Kaiserthum Oesterreich_ was scribbled on the back, and he tucked it in his coat. The Feldmarschall was staring at him with tired eyes, and Roderich half-wished he was a more competent military force as they exchanged salutes and he left. Stumbling back into the barracks, Roderich sat on his bunk and tore open the envelope. He lit a match and held it near the paper, careful not to burn it, and read the words written in familiar penmanship.

_"The Kingdom of Hungary withdraws from the personal union with the Austrian Empire._

_-Magyar Népköztársaság, Héderváry Erzsébet"_

He read the words over and over, but they stayed the same every time. The corner of his lips curled up. Ah. So she had finally succeeded. He was aware that their divorce was more a matter of when than if after their personal separation months ago, and he had seen and felt it when the Hungarian troops left the army the day previous. He was physically whole, but felt growing numbness in his body with each passing day as more nations proclaimed independence from him.

"Congratulations, Spatzl." he chuckled grimly, holding the letter to the flame. The corner caught fire and not much later turned into a pile of soot and ashes on Roderich's lap, the literal ruins of his marriage. He brushed them off then snuffed out the candle and stepped outside. In the distance, gunfire and artillery shots boomed, the last desperate Austrian defense. Just Austrian.

She had finally left him. Four hundred years and this is how it ends.

Austria never felt so much like both himself and a foreigner wearing his skin than now.

He called out to a soldier sleeping on a pile of sacks a few meters away. The man snapped awake and rushed towards him, "Sir!"

Roderich glanced at him head to toe, then back up again. The lad looked like Roderich's physical age, and about half as weary "What's your name, boy?"

If the soldier was bothered by the label, he didn't show it "Korporal Krenn, Sir."

Roderich made an affirmative hum "Tell the Feldmarschall that I'm returning to Vienna on urgent business and that I want an armistice within the next three days."

Krenn's eyebrows furrowed "An armistice?"

Roderich peered at him over his glasses. _So much for raising morale on the front and turning the tide, Edelstein._ "I won't repeat myself. Now go."

"It's not just that, Sir, but-" he trailed off as a faint glimmer formed in his eyes. Roderich nodded, understanding the silent question.

"Ja. You can finally go home."

\---

**3 Nov. 1918, Veneto region**

The Armistice of Villa Giusti was signed. Feliciano Vargas let out a long sigh of relief and decided that it was time for a long fucking break as he left the villa with a brush and canvas tucked under his arm. Roderich was informed of this, expletive included, by telegram the next day, as hostilities ceased and his troops withdrew into his borders. A week later, the war was over and officially, so was his empire.

\---

**8 Jun. 1920, Vienna**

Roderich groaned when he heard knocking at the door. Germany was out trying to find ways to pay reparations, so he struggled alone to get up from his seat at the kitchen and towards the cane leaning against the edge of the table. There was more knocking, quicker and louder this time, and Roderich huffed as he finally managed to reach the stick and force himself to the door.

"Gilbert," he growled, gasping for air with each step. He grabbed the doorknob and swung it open "If that's you, I am going to-"

The rest of the words dried in his mouth as Roderich found himself staring instead at a woman who was definitely not Gilbert Beilschmidt. His brows knitted closer, and he was still deciding whether to hold the door open or to slam it shut when the visitor stepped inside, a large suitcase in hand.

"Erzsébet." He closed it behind her, the clicking of the lock sounding too final, like it was sealing his fate "I wasn't expecting you."

"No, you weren't." She looked around, facing everywhere but his direction. Her face crinkled at the stacks of boxes littering the living room "Did you move everything downstairs?"

"Your belongings are still in the bedroom."

"Lovely."

She walked up the stairs lightly, whereas Roderich followed a few steps after, the struggle of ascending the staircase with a cane further delaying him and increasing the distance between them. When he reached their former bedroom, Erzsébet was pulling out the dresser drawers, digging out small chests of valuables and accessories. When she saw him leaning on his cane, she lifted a brow then resumed her task. Seeing as how he hadn't been literally kicked out yet, Roderich made his way to the bed and sat on it, laying his cane beside him. Erzsébet was facing away from him, and with her hair unusually pinned up, he could see how her blouse hung off her frame, her back much less broad than he remembered. If he embraced her, his arms could probably wrap around her twice. 

Roderich turned away. He should not welcome such thoughts.

"You can have mine as well." He said. She paused then moved on to the wardrobe. Without her blocking the suitcase, he could see the half dozen tiny chests that held some of Europe's finest jewelry: the emerald earrings he had given her on their anniversary; the necklace the empress gifted for the wedding; and the rubies from her own treasury. She had taken the one that held some of his rings, too.

Erzsébet flung open the closet doors, making Roderich wince at the slam. She pulled out her clothes: her blouses, her dresses, her riding uniform, until the white and blue gown hidden at the very back was visible. Roderich tried not to frown too much.

"You can keep the dress. I don't need it." Erzsébet was folding the first armful of clothes into her suitcase. Neither of them looked at each other properly.

Roderich looked down at her. "As if I would have use for it."

"Your next wife, maybe? Fifth time's the charm?"

"Erzsi."

"Don't call me that."

She was glaring, eyes fully locked on him now. He supposed he wasn't any better, but she looked so, so much smaller. Had just two years passed or was it actually a century since he last saw her? This was the longest time they had spent apart in decades and now she was here again and she'll be gone before he knew it. His fingers curled around the bedsheets.

He realized she was still glaring and cleared his throat "I- We didn't exactly part on the best terms, but I am asking- that is to say, a polite inquiry- what I mean is" He took a deep breath to stop himself from stumbling over his words even more "How are you?"

"Mostly dead but never better. Do you actually have something to say or can I continue packing up now?" She was wearing her best deadpan expression yet. Roderich sighed. She was so close, the nearest she'd been in years. Just the right distance for him to walk up to her and take her hand and ask her.

The gold band hanging on a string weighed heavy on the hollow of his throat.

Instead, he said, "I missed you."

There was a split second before Erzsébet reacted, turning back to her suitcase and putting in her skirts. Then she slammed the lid shut and he half expected her to simply pick it up and leave as she had years ago but she just sat on it and raised a hand between them. She said, "Don't. I'm not coming back. You can't make me come back."

"I'm sorry I wasn't a better husband."

"I'm not sure you even reached the level of 'good'."

"Erzsébet, you weren't miserable the whole time and you know it."

"Was I?" She put her chin on her hand, her elbow resting on her thigh "Was I really, Roderich?"

Roderich scoffed. "There must have been at least one occasion you enjoyed."

"And lots more that I didn't. When I said I wanted out, I meant it. And nothing that happened will make me want to come back."

"Even though the Allies took so much from you?"

She stiffened, and her face darkened in the way that had made the Prussian army retreat from her path centuries ago. Now, at the receiving end, Roderich could feel a growing shiver in his spine. Erzsébet was breathing heavily, almost snarling, and he wouldn't be surprised if she pounced on him at any moment. _Too soon,_ he thought. Four days too fresh.

"Yes."

He felt his chest fall, and deeply inhaled. Of course. Of course she would say that. Why wouldn't she.

Roderich closed his eyes and started to reach out for his cane then stopped. He pushed himself up and made five shaky steps before he fell, Erzsébet springing from her seat to catch him. They landed on the floor in a tangle of limbs and skirts, Roderich holding onto her shoulders and Erzsébet to his forearms. His hands slid down to her arms, then her hands, slowly moving over the scarred skin. He brushed his thumb over her bare fingers and held on for a few more moments. When she didn't pull back, he looked up at her, and she was looking back at him, lips pressed thin and green eyes firm. She glanced at his neck, then to his face, and moved back from him.

"Our time is over, Roderich. _We_ are over." She whispered. Roderich exhaled.

He looked back on that night in the bunker years ago, on the letter he had held against the match and burned, on the embers that had danced and flew like a bird taking flight. Something chirped outside the window behind Erzsébet. A sparrow.

Well, he supposed there was only one thing a man could do with his wife. Erzsébet had always been more beautiful when she was happy anyway.

His chuckled mirthlessly as he leaned away as well "I suppose not. I can hardly imagine you would enjoy being married to a cripple anyway." She opened her mouth, but he raised his hand to cut her off "You are right. I wasn't a good husband, nor even a decent partner. I subjugated you and your people for too long and while I don't find your current condition ideal, I nevertheless congratulate your independence."

She rolled her eyes "Don't flatter me."

"When did I ever bother with that?"

Her lips curled up slightly, and it reminded Roderich of Greece's tale about the ten-year war that had been caused by a single woman. Austria had waged war for Hungary for a century, and a few more against her in the years after, but it was all worth the woman at his side. 

But Erzsébet was no Helen to reclaim, nor was Roderich Menelaus to take her; she was more like Atalanta, quick and free-spirited, and he was but one of the many men she had charmed. She was (no longer) his wife and he (still) loved her.

Erzsébet shrugged, "Fair enough."

They sat side by side, both two feet and two hundred kilometres apart. She turned to him and their eyes met, and he ached to reach out and hold her as he would have even just a decade ago. Then the moment ended and she looked away while he released a breath that he didn't know he'd been holding.

Erzsébet was the one who broke the silence, "It's getting late. I should probably go."

"Ah, of course, of course." nodded Roderich "A favor, please. Do you mind if," he motioned to the bed "my cane?"

"Oh. Sure." She stood up and handed it to him, and they both wobbled as Roderich tried to stand and she helped lift him up, two worn figures in an unfamiliar world. He tried to carry Erzsébet's suitcase as well, but she beat him to it and was already at the door before he even got within arm's length of the handle. She was already at the bottom of the staircase as he began to descend. Even though he ran out of breath, it was still much more graceful than his ascent earlier that afternoon had been.

They stood at the doorway in the same place where he first welcomed her into his house as his maid. Her suitcase had been a small pouch that fit all her belongings and his cane had been purely ornamental.

Four hundred years, over just like that.

"Do you want me to call a cab?" he offered. 

She shook her head "I'm meeting up with my diplomats downtown. We can take it from there."

"Take care."

"You too."

She held out her hand, and he was raising it to his lips when he noticed her wrinkled expression. He withdrew his face and shook her hand instead, coughing to hide his blunder. "Apologies. Force of habit."

"Of course."

He held on for what felt like an eternity and a second too long to be appropriate before letting go. He took a long look at her, committing each feature and change to memory and wondering when he would see her again, if he would ever get to. "Wiederschau'n, Erzsébet."

"Yeah." She said with a faint smile, almost invisible, as she picked up her suitcase and opened the door, looking at him over her shoulder "Szia, Roderich."

Then the great doors shut behind her and she was gone again. Roderich's hand tightened around his cane, and he stayed until his legs ached and then returned to the kitchen. The china still needed to be taken out and the silverware sorted into which would be sold or bartered. He leaned his cane against the table and turned to the mess before him. He sat and went back to arranging them- no more oyster forks and salad spoons- keeping his hands occupied while his mind wandered east. He shouldn't have sold the piano.

It was well into the evening by the time Roderich heard the door open and shut again, and even footsteps echoed on the bare floor. Ludwig entered the kitchen looking as worn as ever, and he sat across Roderich, staring intently at the scattered cutlery.

"I ran into Erzsébet downtown." Announced Ludwig. When Roderich didn't reply, he continued "Was she here earlier?"

"She visited to retrieve her things, is all."

"...That's all?"

That got Roderich to raise his brow slightly "Why wouldn't it be?"

He had the feeling that Ludwig was watching every movement he made, every knife he added to the "sell" pile. Ludwig picked one up, examining the small tool in his large hands as he replied, "I just thought it had something to do with the date."

The corner of Roderich's mouth twitched. He looked up at Ludwig and gently reached for the knife, and plucked it from his hands as if it were no more the toy of a disobedient child. 

"I'm afraid to tell you that it didn't." said Roderich "It was all business."

"I see." Ludwig nodded and pulled back his chair as he walked out of the kitchen "I'm going to bed. It's another long day tomorrow."

"Good night." Roderich called out to the silence. He put down the last spoon and looked at his work: a silver pyramid of various utensils and platter that looked like it would collapse any minute. He nearly laughed to himself at the irony.

He put them all in a box marked 'to sell' and then retreated to his own room. As he lay in bed, he remembered the last anniversary he and Erzsébet had celebrated, their fiftieth. It had been a small celebration with little to no pomp: just him, her, and Gilbert talking and laughing in the eastern trenches between swigs from a bottle of wine that the latter had stolen at some point from Roderich's cellar, but he was too out of it to mind. A war was a pretty good time to want to be too out of it to mind.

Roderich sighed and took off his glasses before placing them a safe distance from him as he closed his eyes. There was no point in reminiscing. He just hoped that wherever he and Erzsébet would be another two or maybe twenty or fifty years down the road, it would be in a better place than this.

**Author's Note:**

> Narrator voice: it wasn't.
> 
> I probably researched more about the Monarchy this week alone than I have in the past five years, and I still think/know I made mistakes somewhere. Anw, to not keep the notes too full of references, the timeline more or less goes:
> 
> 24/10 - 3/11/1918: Battle of Vittorio Veneto, in which Feli beats AH up so bad they have to get a divorce. Over the week, Czechs, Slovaks, then Hungarians (31/10) declared independence from AH.
> 
> 4/6/1920: Treaty of Trianon. Hungary got cut up bad. Let's just say she passed by Vienna while on the way back home and it just so happened to be on their 53rd anniversary.


End file.
